Dearest Clarice
by schmoosh
Summary: After the events at Paul Krendler's cottage, Clarice recieves a note from the Good Doctor. Will she persue him once more? Will it be for their love or for justice?
1. A Recap of Tonight's Events

Chapter 1: A Recap

Clarice Starling stared down into the empty boat on the water as police officers ran around Paul Krendler's cottage estate searching desperately for Dr. Lecter. Her arms shot into the air as police officers shouted for her to drop the gun and identify herself, which she did without thought. Her long auburn hair and black dinner dress whipped around her as helicopters circled overhead, shining their spotlights onto the ground. Clarice frowned darkly at the 4th of July fireworks as they went off in the distance. They seemed to be an ironic mockery of the events that had unfolded that evening.

---

_Clarice snuggled further into her pillow, unwilling to rouse from the deep slumber that her body so clearly needed after the savage beating it had endured. Taking a bullet while saving Dr. Lecter from Mason Verger, Dr. Lecter's fifth and only (formerly) surviving victim, had taken a toll on her body... Or was it the drug that Dr. Lecter had meticulously injected into her right arm to remove the offending bullet and sew her up like a treasured, tattered doll?_

_Clarice opened her dull blue eyes slowly to gaze around the unfamiliar room. Her vision seemed blurry and any form of movements took an unbearable effort. As she forced herself to move her head, she realized that she had been drugged. She struggled to get to the edge of the bed where she flopped down onto the ground in a ruffled heap. Taking deep breaths as the world around her spun, she grabbed onto the bed and hoisted herself back up onto her feet. She turned to study the stitching near her right shoulder as the world spun dangerously around her. She shut her eyes tightly and allowed herself several deep breaths. Opening her eyes again, she shuffled over to the window and gazed out onto the water. From what she could see, she was in a waterfront house on the second story. There was a small engine boat bobbing gracefully on the water The lights in the distance left glittering trails in her vision._

_Wandering quietly outside of the room and down the hallway, she came across stairs leading down where she could hear the clanking of pots and two male voices. One voice drifted to her, his voice slightly metallic and articulate, decisive and elegant. His words drifted in and out of her understanding as he spoke to his guest._

"_You must be polite to our guest, Paul. You must make her feel welcome. Now come, this won't hurt a bit."_

_A loud metallic buzz echoed throughout the house and then the conversation continued fluidly. _

"_There's another guest?"_

"_Yes. Agent Starling, Paul. Now come, we must have dinner prepared for us!."_

_Clarice looked down the stairs cautiously. She turned back to look at the landing she was on and noticed that her gun, handcuffs and a phone (though it had been disconnected) sat on a small table. Wobbling slightly, she leaned down and reconnected the phone and proceeded to dial the FBI's number. When a monotonous dispatcher answered on the other end, Clarice explained quietly her whereabouts and how Dr. Lecter had kidnapped her. She almost zoned out when the voice began to calmly explain that they would trace the call and would be there in 10 minutes. Resting the headpiece back onto the table, she slowly bad her way down the stairs. She reached the bottom and turned into the dining room and came face to face with an impeccably dressed Dr. Lecter and a dazed, drooling Paul Krendler._

_As Lecter diced herbs and began making a sauce, Clarice came further into the room. She stared back at Paul, whose mouth was hanging open and drooling slightly. Breaking the stare, she looked up to Dr. Lecter._

"_Why are you here, Clarice? You should be resting. I gave you morphine to remove that bullet" Lecter waved his hand vaguely towards her shoulder _

_Instead of answering, Clarice sat at the dinner table and requested a glass of wine, which Lecter denied her politely. Before they could begin to speak, Paul interrupted with a slurred voice, asking what was for dinner. Lecter turned to Paul and served him some broth, helping him drink it through a straw. Confessing that he added something special to Paul's serving, he went back to his sauté. After some trivial conversation, Paul demanded to know what was really for dinner._

"_Never ask rude questions, Paul."_

_Lecter moved behind Paul to gather a few culinary instruments and asked Paul to say grace. Paul looked pointedly at Clarice before tightly closing his eyes._

"_Bow you head. Father, we thank Thee for Thy blessings and dedicate them to Thy mercy we are about... to receive. Forgive us all, even white trash like Starling here and bring her into my service. Amen."_

"_Now I have to tell you, Paul... Even the Apostle Paul couldn't have done better. He hated women, too." Dr. Lecter said softly_

_As Lecter moved around again, Paul whispered harshly to Clarice_

"_By the way, Clarice, that was a job offering I worked into the blessing. I'm going to Congress, you know."_

_Obviously, Paul was beyond tranquilized. Dr. Lecter had fed him some serious drugs. Clarice took notice of Paul's peculiar attire, his track pants and a ball cap. Clarice felt a wave of confusion as she looked down at her own attire. Why was she dressed so elegantly and why was Paul wearing a hat at the table? Perhaps Dr. Lecter wanted Paul to be comfortable for the evening._

"_Can you type and file? Can you take dictation? Take this down: 'Washington is full of corn-pone country pussy.'" Paul laughed childishly and went back to drooling and staring down at the table._

"_I took it down, you said it already." Clarice muttered_

_Dr. Lecter returned and stared down at Paul as he moved around deftly. His voice was soft and gentle but his words carried a lethal threat behind them_

"_Now you're being rude and I hate rude people."_

_Dr. Lecter walked over to Clarice to give her some broth. As he bent down to place the bowl in front of her, she lunged at him with a dull bread knife she had grabbed while his back was turned. Dr. Lecter caught her easily by the wrist and pushed her back into her seat with a gentle nudge._

"_Come on, Clarice. No! That's a good girl." As he took the knife and placed it in his pocket, he placed his hand on her cheek and stared down at her with his warm maroon eyes. He smiled slightly which made his face wrinkle with a deceptive kindness. His black suit and crimson tie went together perfectly, as did his short black hair and calculating gaze. It gave him an air of sophistication._

_He walked back over to Paul, who had closed his eyes and rested his head back with his jaw opened slackly. Obviously, whatever Dr. Lecter had slipped into his broth had finally kicked in and he was drugged further into submission. Dr. Lecter removed Paul's hat quickly and grabbed one of the instruments he gathered earlier. There was a cut that encircled Paul's forehead. Paul blinked slowly and didn't move when Dr. Lecter moved behind him and placed a hand on top of his head while he slowly pushed a scalpel into the cut. As he wedged it further in, the hand on top of Paul's head pulled at the hair. Slowly but surely, the top of Paul's skull, much like a jack o' lantern, popped off. Unaware of of his naked brain, Paul continued to drool and stare at Clarice._

"_Doctor Lecter!" Clarice said in a strangled voice. She stared desperately at Paul._

"_You see, the brain itself feels no pain if that concerns you. For example, Paul won't miss this little piece here..." Dr. Lecter indicated to a section of the pink spongy mass emerged from Paul, who was now giving a small smile to Clarice._

"_...Which is part of the prefrontal lobe, which they say is the seat of good manners." Dr. Lecter gave a small sarcastic smile and Clarice began to bargain for Paul's life._

"_Your trait profile. Stop now, and I'll tell you what they are."_

"_How does that word taste to you, Clarice? Hmm? Cheap and metallic, like... sucking on a greasy coin?"_

_Paul, who was incredibly still conscious despite his horrific injuries, inquired slowly_

"_Who's Clarice?"_

_Dr. Lecter, nostrils flared, kept his gaze on Clarice. He gave Paul a short, clipped answer._

"_Agent Starling, Paul. If you can't keep up with the conversation you had better not try to join in at all."_

_Clarice turned to look at Paul with tears in her eyes. "Me, Paul. I'm Starling." It was obvious that Paul was beginning to fade. He stared around slowly and dribbled more saliva down the front of his jacket._

_Hannibal went back to work on Paul's brain. He took the scalpel and delicately cut the sac that contains the brain, which he then peeled back to fully expose the pink mass. Desperate to stop the actions and to somehow save Paul, Clarice demanded wine once more. Ignoring her, Dr. Lecter sliced off a small portion of Paul's brain and began to fry it in the sauce he had created earlier. The smell began to waft around the room and Paul snapped out of his stupor and looked around to Dr. Lecter. Paul sniffed appreciatively._

"_That smells great!"_

"_Yeah, I bet. Why don't you try a little piece?"_

_Clarice choked back a sob as Dr. Lecter placed the delicate piece of fried flesh into Paul's open mouth. As he began to chew, Clarice began to gag and looked away as Paul began to unknowingly eat himself to death._

_Moving away from Paul with a satisfied sound, Hannibal poured Clarice a small glass of wine and offered it to her, which she denied by turning her head and looking away. Hannibal sighed and downed the glass._

"_Given the chance, you would deny me my life, wouldn't you?"_

"_Not your life." She responded softly_

"_My freedom, just that. You'd take that from me. And if you did, would they have you back, do you think? The FBI? Those people you despise almost as much as they despise you? Would they give you a medal, Clarice, do you think? Would you have it professionally framed and hang it on your wall to look at and remind you of your courage and incorruptibility?" He smiled softly, his eyebrows twitching upward and his eyes twinkled admiringly, "All you would need for that, Clarice, is a mirror."_

_They shared a look for a moment before Paul shot a rude comment out to Clarice._

"_I had plans for that smart mouth! But I'm never gonna hire you-you now."_

_Dr. Lecter turned to Paul and inquired softly_

"_Paul?"_

_Clarice looked at Paul whose blinking became forced. Small drops of bloob began to stream down his face and he gurgled something unintelligible._

"_Paul, remember what I said? Id you can't be polite to our guests, you have to sit at the kiddie's table."_

_Dr. Lecter moved to start cleaning the table and told Clarice not to get up. Paul was still staring at her with a goofy grin plastered on his face. Dr. Lecter placed a plate onto Paul's lap and pulled at the back of his chair (which Clarice hadn't noticed was a wheelchair) and began pushing him towards the kitchen._

"_Paul will help me clean and make coffee. Just think about what I said, Clarice."_

_As the door slowly closed, Paul gave a small, weak wave to Clarice. Clarice grabbed a candleholder and rose quietly from the table. She glanced into the kitchen through a small gap between the door and the doorway. As Dr. Lecter moved around to make the coffee, Paul's head finally drooped forward. Dr. Lecter threw a towl over his head lazily and continued preparing coffee. Taking her chance, Clarice charged into the room with the candleholder help high over her head, poised and ready to strike at Dr. Lecter's turned body. As she came in, he turned around quickly and grabbed her wrist. They struggled for a moment before Dr. Lecter overpowered her and slammed her back into the fridge door. _

"_I came halfway around the world to watch you run, Clarice." He leaned forward until their faces were inches from touching. She stared into his eyes as he gazed at her parted lips. Clarice could see that his control was slipping from him. Taking a breath, he regained control and moved his back a few centimetres before speaking again._

"_Let me run, huh?"_

_He moved away from her for a moment and Clarice took the opportunity to charge at him again. He caught her wrist more forcefully this time and let out a small growl before slammer back onto the fridge. Bottles inside the fridge clanked together noisily. Clarice rested her head back while Dr. Lecter stared at her with frigid stare. He breathed deeply before ripping open the fridge and slamming it closed onto Clarice's ponytail, effectively pinning her to the fridge. He broke off the handle for good measure and took a step back to appreciate his work. He then looked at her with affection once again, admiring her fighting spirit._

"_Tell me, Clarice... Would you ever say to me, 'Stop! If you loved me, you'd stop!'?" His eyes moved over her face slowly, memorizing each detail of her defiant, flushed face. His features softened but his maroon eyes searched hers as he waited for a reply_

_Clarice grimaced in pain and with a strong, determined whisper, replied._

"_Not in a thousand years."_

_The only thing that gave her away was the slight quiver in her bottom lip._

_Dr. Lecter's eyebrows shot up and he considered her response for a moment. His eyes darkened and narrowed ever so slightly._

"_Not in a thousand years?" he parroted back to her_

_Without warning, he brought his face to hers quickly, teeth bared. He stopped within a hairsbreadth from her and stared into her unblinking, calm eyes. He smiled approvingly before moving back and gazing into her face appreciatively. It had been a test of truth. She did not flinch away but stared at him sadly._

"_That's my girl." He whispered reverently _

_He then moved close again, this time not pausing. His lips covered her own in a searing kiss. Electricity passed through them both, much as it had back when Hannibal had handed her the Buffalo Bill case file through the bars of his makeshift cell all those years ago._

_Long, delicious moments passed as Hannibal's lips roamed greedily over her own. He pulled back whe the sound of sirens reached their ears. Dr. Lecter lifted his lips from hers and smiled at her for what felt like the final time._

"_Good bye, Clarice."_

_Dr. Lecter turned towards the hallway and quickly disappeared into the darkness. Struggling, it took Clarice a minute or two to free herself from the fridge before she dashed down the hallway and out the back door. Facing the water, she ran towards the boat, convinced that he would use it to escape._

_---_

Clarice brought herself back from the memory as she turned to look at the officers over her shoulder. They were approaching her slowly, their guns trained on her.

"Identify yourself!"

"My name is Special Agent Clarice Starling!"

---

Hours passed as the FBI raided Paul Krendler's cottage for any clues pointing to Lecter's whereabouts. The ambulance team had pulled Clarice over, examined her quickly, and sent the ambulance off towards the hospital

---

Clarice was checked into the hospital for overnight monitoring. After being questioned extensively by nurses and examined by doctors, Clarice was lead to a private hospital room and handed a bag containing her belongings from the house. Her bloodstained clothing, wallet, handcuffs, and gun where there, ready for her use. Unfortunately, they had included the dinner dress and Gucci shoes.

Clarice laid in her stiff bed with her head back and her eyes closed. There was no sound in her dimly lit room aside from the constant beeping from the various machines attached to her. After replaying the nights' events for what felt like the thousandth time, Clarice raised her head and opened her tired eyes to look around the room. Finding the walls boring, she leaned over the bedside to her table and grabbed her belongings.

As she emptied the contents of the bag onto her lap, she made a disgusted sound. Her shirt, the one she had worn when she rescued Dr. Lecter from Verger's mansion, was in there. There was blood and sweat that stained it from the violent encounter with the man in the loft. In the shoulder, there was a tattered, bloodstained hole from where the bullet pierced her.

She grumpily threw the shirt into the corner of the room and resumed looking through her things. Her pants were relatively clean so she absentmindedly wiped off dirt and picked off a fluff before running her hand over a pocket. Feeling a lump, she reached in and slowly pulled out a thick yellow envelope. She stared at it with wide eyes for a moment and swallowed the hysterical laughter that was rising in her throat. She flipped it over and read to whom it was addressed. In elegant, scrawling curves, her name stared up at her.

_Dearest Clarice,_

_My dear, I did say that we were pressed for time. However, I find this note fitting for the occasion. I do hope you accept my apologies for witnessing tonight's 'dinner'. It was my deepest wish that you would have remained asleep from the morphine I administered to you. I did suggest that you go back to bed, did I not?_

_I feel I left too abruptly, especially after that lovely moment in the kitchen. Tell me, Clarice, did it satisfy your hunger? It certainly did not for me. I'm quite annoyed that you felt the need to contact your FBI agents... We could have had some fun, Clarice. I did tell you all those years ago that I thought it would be quite something to know you on a personal level. Now I know you on a more delicious level, Clarice. I approve of the flavour of that lip balm you wear. Strawberry is my favourite, Clarice._

_I find that I cannot fully leave you this way. At the moment, dear Agent Starling, I am traveling. Where-to shall remain a mystery for now, my Little Starling, but I do hope that you will not inform your pals at the FBI (though I doubt it. Your lust for justice is much too strong.). I have left a small clue in your wallet if you decide to pursue me once more._

_Clarice, I do hope to see you again. Hopefully, we shall convene in more desirable circumstances. Now that Dr. Chilton & Mason Verger are disposed of, I am sure we could sit down and enjoy that nice Chianti we spoke of all those years ago._

_Ta-ta for now,_

_Hannibal Lecter, M.D._

_P.S The dress and shoes were simply gorgeous. I hope you don't mind that I slipped them on for you. Hopefully those medics will allow you to keep them to wear again one day... But next time, there will be no morphine._

---

A/N Well, looks like I'm coming back to this fanfiction after two long years of distraction. I'm making some improvements to already existing chapters. In the end, the plot will definitely change from what I originally have in mind.


	2. Dreams and FreeRange Rude

Dearest Clarice

Chapter 2: Dreams and Free-Range Rude

Clarice stared down at the note on her lap with wide eyes. Her heart pounded away in her chest and the blood in her ears roared, drowning out her startled gasps.

"_...Did it satisfy your hunger? It certainly didn't for me..."_

The machines attached to Clarice began to beep irregularly. Her delicate pale hands began to shake as her thoughts whizzed around inside her head. Her mouth became so dry that she had to pass her tongue along her lips to moisten them.

She quickly snapped out of her thoughts when she heard the machines beeping and she realized that they were sending out alarm signals to the waiting nurses of the hospital. Realizing that she would have unwelcome company soon, Clarice grabbed the thick papers and shoved them behind her pillow quickly. Resting back down, Clarice shut her eyes swiftly and feigned sleep. A moment later, Clarice heard the door open quietly and rushed footsteps approached her bed and to the machines, where she could hear fingers pressing buttons and turning knobs. She pressed her eyes closed harder and felt a presence loom over herself. The urge to fidget was unbearable and Clarice realized suddenly that she had been holding onto her breath for quite some time. Letting it out in a sleep-like sigh, the presence lingered for a moment before turning a final knob with a small click before the footsteps headed towards the door. The nurse was gone.

Clarice snapped her eyes open again and remained very still for a few moments before reaching behind her and removed the note. She brought the note to eye level again and traced the elegant script with her gaze before she shuddered and folded it up again. After placing it back into the yellow envelope, she placed it in the bag along with the rest of her belongings. Clarice lowered the bag to the floor and rolled onto her left side, facing away from both the bag and the door.

As a restless sleep overcame Clarice, a dark figure observed her from the window in the door.

***

"_Ah, Clarice. Love the dress. Wine?" Dr. Lecter's eyes twinkled and gleamed from the light of the fireplace._

_Clarice had strolled into the lounge, auburn hair perfectly straight down her back. The dress she had worn in Paul Krendler's cottage was once again draped over her frame, only this time it was worn in the manner that the Good Doctor had suggested. No morphine blurred her vision this time._

"_Yes, please." She murmured softly_

_Dr. Lecter turned to the table that the Chianti sat on and poured two glasses. When he turned around, he extended the glass in his right hand to her. Dr. Lecter pulled it away playfully as she reached for it and extended the other glass. His small grin grew into a playful smile as Clarice stared into his eyes. The smile faded slowly when she brushed her fingers against his as she grabbed her glass. Clarice cocked her head to the right as she observed his gracefully aged face in the light of the fireplace before turning her head to observe the glass in her hand. The dark red liquid reminded her of Dr. Lecter's eyes; deep, aged and well-bred._

"_Clarice..."_

_She turned to him while sipper the dry red wine daintily. He moved closer and removed the glass to place it back on the table._

"_Clarice." A whisper from his lips_

"_Dr. Lecter?"_

"_Hannibal. Call me Hannibal, Clarice."_

_She nodded mutely and blinked as his face came closer to her own. She held her breath as his arm came to pull her closer as he lowered his head slowly to her own._

"_Clarice..."_

_Only moments away from feeling those dangerous lips pressed against her own..._

***

"Clarice? Ms. Starling? Wake up, dear. It's time for breakfast." A familiar tenor reached her ears, breaking through the delicious fog of her dream

Clarice groaned softly before sitting up and cracked open a bleary eye open before quickly opening both widely in surprise

"Barney!? She choked out in a sleep-hoarse voice

"Mhm, yes, Ms. Starling. Come now, sit up. I've got you some blueberry pancakes and some orange juice. I snuck it out of the kitchen. The hospital breakfasts didn't look like food. Come now, eat up." Barney's dark brown eyes twinkled as he helped Clarice sit up, making sure that the wires attached to her didn't pinch or pull uncomfortably.

Clarice grinned up at the large black man in appreciation before starting on her pancakes. As she began to munch slowly, she looked over to Barney, who was observing her with a closed stare. Swallowing her mouthful, Clarice gestured for him to sit down. As she went back to eating, Barney continued observing her quietly. A few moments passed before Barney broke the silence.

"You said 'Dr. Lecter' in your sleep, Clarice." The quiet statement rang throughout the small hospital ward

Clarice, who had been staring down at her plate as she chewed, looked up sharply and stared at Barney. She swallowed harshly and coughed before blinking her watery eyes in his direction

"Clarice, tell me you're not..."

Silence met the half asked question. Clarice turned her gaze away from Barney's concerned stare and observed the ground near his feet with interest.

"What, Barney?"

Barney leaned forward to catch Clarice's attention and caught her eye.

"Tell me you're not in love with him, Clarice."

Clarice blinked nervously and her eyes darted over his shoulder to the door and back to his kind, bearded face. She swallowed audibly before staring Barney in the eye.

"I don't know, Barney."

***

Hannibal's eyes scanned the terminal lazily, observing the crowd with disinterest. No dark figures looking for him, no FBI agents guarding doors...

"_My, how security is getting slack these days."_ Dr. Lecter thought to himself

He waited for his luggage to circulate around on the carousel along with those of the fellow passengers when something caught his attention. An Italian businessman with dark, wavy hair, Armani's finest suit, polished leather shoes and stylish sunglasses came bustling through the crowd, pulling his luggage behind him. He held a cellular phone to his ear and even from his distance, Hannibal could hear his agitated voice shouting into the phone in rapid Italian.

Hannibal watched as the businessman carelessly bowled over the young asian boy he had been speaking to on the plane and felt his temper rise immediately. The child looked bewildered, sprawled on the floor as his father yelled after the businessman. The Italian's only response was to raise his free hand and extend his middle finger while quickening his pace through the crowd.

"Ah... Free-Range Rude."

Hannibal disappeared into the crowd after him.

***

A/N Woo, I'm finally getting back into writing for this story! Hopefully those who read this story a year and a half ago will enjoy it being revamped just as much as my new readers are enjoying it's current state! Do comment, otherwise I'll lose interest again... :D


	3. Dinner at 8!

Dearest Clarice

Chapter 3: Dinner at 8

The crowd in the terminal was heavy and packed. The well-dressed businessman kept a steady pace as he pushed passed the masses. Dr. Lecter weaved in and out of the crowd while maintaining a visual of the man... Hunting had always been a favourite exertion of his.

Dr. Lecter watched as the man ploughed his way carelessly through a family. He bashed shoulders with anyone who came near him and didn't bother to apologize to anyone in his way. At one point, the man almost knocked over a baby stroller, leaving behind a shaken infant who wailed loudly and a mother who screamed obscenities in his direction. Scowling to himself darkly, Dr. Lecter sped up and gracefully and kept his eyes trained on the man's wavy hair.

The crowd thinned and soon Dr. Lecter found himself walking into a cool, damp underground parking lot. The steady 'click' 'click' 'click' of the businessman's high maintenance shoes echoed throughout the cavernous parking lot. Sniffing the air, Dr. Lecter caught the man's scent and his face squinted. He proceeded to follow the smell of cheap cologne. The clicking of shoes on the pavement grew louder, so Dr. Lecter's footsteps became gentle and swift. He stayed in the shadows against the walls, which he blended into easily from practice. He watched the man approach a sleek little Porsche. The man stopped and struggled briefly with his duffle bag and keys, which Dr. Lecter saw as his chance. He approached the turned back slowly and as he did so, the man dropped his keys and cursed. He dropped his duffle bag off his shoulder and kneeled down to retrieve the keys. It was when he stood back up that Dr. Lecter made his move.

"Well, hello!" the metallic voice rang out and echoed into the darkness loudly

The man gave a startled yelp and jumped forward, effectively smashing his knee into the car door with a loud crunch. He hopped around and cursed fluidly in Italian while he clutched his knee. Dr. Lecter watched in amusement and began to whistle a cheerful waltz as the man continued to hobble around and curse. Dr. Lecter reached into his jacket pocket while whistling lazily and pulled out his handkerchief and a small bottle of chloroform. Mockingly, Dr. Lecter held out his hands and waltzed a circle around the doubled-over man. Finally positioning himself behind the businessman, he grabbed him around the middle and smashed the handkerchief over his nose and mouth. The man let out a muffled shout and struggled for air, thrashing around violently. Dr. Lecter rested his chin against his shoulder and closed his eyes while he held on tightly. He breathed in the man's spicy scent deeply and power flooded every nerve in his body.

"Oh, to be God is a wonderful thing." Dr. Lecter hissed quietly into the struggling man's ear.

With a groan, the man went limp in his arms and Dr. Lecter tensed. He held the man up for a moment while he grabbed the keys from his limp hands. He grinned to himself and he placed the key into the door and unlocked it. He opened the door quickly and struggled for a moment to get the man into the backseat before joining him to place the seatbelt around his slim waist. With a quiet snap, he lifted himself away and crawled into the front seat. Dr. Lecter quickly placed the keys into the ignition and the car was immediately flooded with a loud base and a whiney voice wailing obnoxious music. Dr. Lecter winced and scowled at the knobs in front of him before he fiddled around and he immediately found a radio station playing classical music to which he sighed happily

'_That's more like it' _He thought to himself absently

Revving the car and throwing it into drive, Dr. Lecter sped off down the dark row of cars. Rolling down his window, his laughter could be heard ringing off the walls.

"Dinner at 8!"

***

Barney raised his eyebrows questioningly at Clarice

"You don't know, Clarice?" Barney's brown eyes twinkled darkly as his eyebrows pulled together to form a deep frown

Clarice looked away from Barney. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them tightly before resting her head down on top of her folded arms and she sighed deeply. She closed her eyes and spoke to Barney without looking at him

"I don't know, Barney. I think about him all the time. That's more obsession than love."

Clarice head Barney adjust in his chair before coming still again. She then recognized the crinkling of papers and slight cough to clear his throat.

" '_...Did it satisfy your hunger? It certainly didn't for me...'" _Barney's deep voice recited

Clarice's dark blue eyes snapped open forcefully and she tensed, holding her breath. When Barney did not continue to recite the letter she had found from Dr. Lecter, she turned her head to glare at him angrily

Barney was looking down at the papers in front of him and paid no attention to Clarice as he read on. Moments trickled by slowly and she started pulling at the sheets covering her legs nervously. Barney raised his eyes to look over her. He twitched and eyebrow upwards before a sad smile passed over his face.

"You _do_ know, Clarice. He knows it, too."

"How did you get that, Barney?"

Barney ignored her for a moment while he reflectively refolded the papers and inserted them back into the yellow envelope. He placed the envelope back into his lap and crossed his arms over his chest before cocking his head to the side and signed

"I grabbed it before you woke up. Your bag tipped over from last night. Oh, and by the way," His eyes twinkled slightly as he continued, "You're not very good at pretending to sleep. I knew you were awake the entire time."

Clarice felt warmth creep up her neck and light up her face

Barney grabbed the note off his lap and stood slowly, his joints cracking quietly from age before he walked over to Clarice and handed back her letter. As she gripped the paper, Barney pulled away slightly and bent down to stare into her eyes.

"Just be careful, Clarice. Hannibal Lecter doesn't food around and then leave. He's a coveter."

Clarice swallowed harshly as her throat constricted with emotion before nodding jerkily and snatched the papers away from Barney. Barney nodded to no one in particular as he slowly turned around and walked to the door.

***

It was a little past 8:30 PM by the time the doctors declared Clarice fit for release from the hospital. She walked out of there quickly and made her way to a nearby bus station. As she waited patiently for the route 106 North to show up, she rested her hand in her purse and touched the hidden envelope in a thoughtful manner. When the bus pulled up, Clarice pulled out some spare change and walked on quietly.

***

Finally reaching home, Clarice pulled out her keys and unlocked her door. She signed in relief as she kicked off her shoes and walked absentmindedly up the stairs and into the washroom where she looked into a mirror for the first time in what seemed like days. What she saw horrified her. Her hair was greasy and matted to her head, her skin was deathly pale and there were large black circles under her eyes. Her grimy appearance was only accentuated by the large baggy hospital clothing that she now had on. Feeling mortified, Clarice peeled off her clothes and began to draw a hot, steamy bath with the intention of scrubbing her skin raw.

Clarice peered into the mirror again as she waited for the water to fill her tub. She had many scars from her years with the FBI; shallow cuts from drug raids, burns from chemicals and tasers, deeper wounds from knives and badly aimed gunshots. They riddled her torso and back, her arms and legs frequently and stood out against her pale, lightly freckled flesh... but none more so than the scar left from Dr. Lecter. The long, deep scar was still angry and red from him stitching her back up and it seemed to glare at her. It would be another constant reminder of him, she thought bitterly.

Turning away from the mirror, she walked over to the tub and climbed into the steaming water. Her muscles adjusted to the relaxing heat and she sunk lower still into the water before resting her eyes and leaning her head back against the rim of the tub. Thought after thought raced through her mind but one question seemed to ring in her ears louder than the rest.

"_Do you love him?"_

Clarice, now satisfied that she could revisit these thoughts in the safety of her own home, began to interrogate herself.

'_Do I love him? Is it possible to love a man who murders and cannibalizes his victims? Can you seriously love a monster? _Clarice frowned at her thoughts and shook her head.

'_Why should I love him? He's a murderer. He's lied. He's an escaped convict. That's all I should need to know about him."_

At once, an annoying voice crept into Clarice's mind. That voice which was so rarely allowed to have any say in her decision-making.

'_Why? Because he's courteous, sophisticated, refined, intelligent, ... and handsome. Need I go on? The flaw that he has is serious but he's almost justified himself every time he does wrong! Besides... You do the same for what __**you**__ think is justice. What makes you so much more different than he?_

Clarice's eyes snapped open at these thoughts. Sickened with herself, she rose out of the tub and towelled off before wrapping the towel around her chest and walked softly into her room. She dropped the towel and quickly changed into a pair of soft Virginian cotton pyjamas and climbed into her bed. She snuggled down into her duvet and feather-down pillow and before long, sleep began to draw her eyes closed.

***

A/N: Thank you to all who review. Please spread the love for this fanfiction to any friends you may be interested in.


	4. A Delicious Dream

Dearest Clarice

Chapter 4: A Delicious Dream

A/N: I do not own anything to do with Hannibal or the sequels/prequels. If I did, Hannibal would be naked all the time.

Warning: This chapter is basically all smut. You have been warned.

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Clarice stood in the dining room of Paul Krendler's cottage and felt a tinge of confusement. She was not supposed to be here, did not want to be here. It smelt of saffron-infused butter and death. She looked down her front and found herself startled that she was wearing her dinner dress. She frowned and looked around the room with suspicion. The corners of the room were shadowed and it did not help that the lighting was set by candles placed strategically around the room. Her eyes were pulled back and forth between shadows that seemed to be alive and she felt her heart begin to flutter erratically with fear. She felt eyes on her skin and she squirmed uncomfortably underneath their invisible scrutiny.

Clarice found her voice after a few moments of trying to will whatever spirits lived in the darkened corners out into the light. It was small and scared sounding and it made her skin crawl with how pathetic it sounded.

"Is anyone there?"

There was no answer. Relief flooded Clarice and suddenly, her legs felt heavy. Her eye dragged away from the shadows almost hesitantly and landed on Paul's place at the table and was surprised to find a regal-looking chair in lieu of a wheelchair. It looked so comfy. Without realizing what was happening, Clarice found herself moving towards it and sat down. The velvet felt amazing on her bare back and she groaned loudly at the contact. She placed her hands on the table and pressed further back onto the material so she could rub her back from side to side against the cool cloth.

Suddenly, the velvet felt like it was rubbing her arms, the back of her calves and around her neck. It was a delicate touch and Clarice paid no attention to the oddness of the situation. Anything that felt this wonderful was more than welcome against her sore, tired body.

She could not help but close her eyes and let out a breathy sigh. It had been so long since she had felt this way and she couldn't help but relish the feeling.

"Hello, Clarice."

The metallic twang of his voice penetrated the silence and Clarice's eyes snapped open wide in panic. Her instinct was to jump up from the chair and run but she only succeeded in thrashing pathetically in the chair. The velvet around her arms, legs and neck constricted and held her in place and her eyes searched wildly for the source of sound.

Her breathing was labored and shaky, goose bumps rose on the back of her neck and her head felt like it was swimming through a mist. Fear clouded every instinct as an FBI agent and she felt powerless, much as she had as a child when her father had been slain. Unable to do anything to help herself. Must fight. Must win.

She struggled again to leap out of the chair but her constraints tightened and Clarice became painfully aware that her source of oxygen was being cut off.

"Sit still, Clarice. We don't want you losing consciousness before we have some fun…"

Her heart thudded painfully away in her chest and suddenly she felt a cool, calloused finger run down the side of her neck. She lurched away from the touch automatically and could feel the chuckle rumble in her ear. The finger paused until it felt Clarice stiffen and then resumed its path. It ran up and down her artery slowly as if to feel its pulse and she heard a tongue click in disapproval.

"You must calm down, Clarice. You'll make yourself dizzy."

Clarice squeezed her eyes shut and focused on breathing slowly but was distracted as the finger decided to alter its path from her artery to drag a polished fingernail just underneath and behind her ear. She could not suppress the shudder that shot through her body and felt extreme shame. The finger moved to trace her earlobe and the shell of her ear and Clarice's throat became dry. She wet her lips quickly and tried again to speak.

"Doctor Lecter?"

She felt a purr vibrate through the air and suddenly found her head being gently moved to the side. Before she could finish her question, heat shot through her belly and down into her crotch as a warm, wet mouth attached itself to her neck and flicked its tongue along her pulse. Teeth nibbled their way up towards her earlobe and Clarice could no longer breath. She felt suffocated and warm and _delicious_. Those teeth came up to bite gently at her lobe and Clarice felt her body respond wildly. Heat and tension quickly pooled in her stomach and she could not help but let out a needy moan.

At her moan, the mouth released her earlobe and she groaned, her muscles unwound and she felt like putty in her chair. She could not stand if she wanted to and kept her eyes closed tightly and breathed through her nose, willing the desire that sprung up so willingly to leave just as quickly. It was having none of that and Clarice felt shame burn on her face as her lower half lubricated quite generously.

"Open your eyes, Clarice. Let me see those eyes." It was not a request.

She sat with her eyes closed stubbornly and wished away whatever was happening to her. Again, she heard the disapproving tongue click at her before a fierce pain-pleasure ripped through her body. His hand had dove into the front of her dress and pinched at her pebbled nipple viciously. Clarice gasped and arched her back and felt his mouth slant over hers greedily. He plundered her mouth as his fingers rolled the swollen nib, his tongue dipping into her mouth without mercy to twist around her own. She whimpered desperately and felt even more moisture pool between her legs.

The warm, spicy mouth ripped away from her own to leave her gasping. The fingers around her nipple gave one more squeeze before it was released and the hand slowly withdrew from her dress.

"I said to open your eyes, Clarice. Do not make me punish you." His voice was calm, collected and held no hint of the physical desire that was rolling through Clarice's petite frame.

She cracked her eyes open wearily but could not see him and the hairs on her neck stood on end. Suddenly, a mirror appeared before her and Clarice was staring at her own flustered face. Her eyes were heavy lidded and a dark flush rose from her chest and up to her cheeks.

The doctor's voice hovered above her ear and he murmured quietly

"All you need, Clarice, is a mirror. You don't need framed metals to prove your incorruptibility."

She continued to stare into the mirror and the Doctor's face materialized over her shoulder. His face was impassive, calm. He watched her carefully though the mirror and their eyes locked.

"That's my girl"

Without a word, the scene before her disappeared and she found herself standing with her back pressed against Paul's refrigerator, her ponytail caught inside the door. Again, the room was dark and hazy, the corners dark with alive shadows. Her eyes followed them quietly.

"Doctor Lecter, let me go."

A soft chucked came from the corner and Doctor Lecter walked to her slowly. Clarice froze and again realized that she could not move away and began to struggle to free herself. Amusement danced in the Doctor's eyes and Clarice felt fear tingle her nerves.

From behind his back, Doctor Lecter pulled out a kitchen knife. It glinted maliciously in the hazy light and Clarice could not help but whimper with fear as she struggled harder to release herself. The good doctor would have none of it and pressed himself up fully into her, his hips pressed into hers. Desire shot through Clarice again but fear overrode it. She bucked forward wildly and she felt the laugh rather than heard it from Doctor Lecter's chest.

He pressed his hand onto her shoulder and rolled his hips slowly into he well of her own.

"Now, now, Clarice. Be good."

Clarice was torn between moaning and screaming to be released. With wide eyes, she watched as he raised the knife and considered it. He looked as if he were having a conversation with the blade, as if the knife was telling him an interesting bit of news. He turned his eyes towards her and gave a small smile before he lowered the blade to her heaving chest.

A small sting of pain whispered past Clarice as a small cut was made on the upper swell of her right breast. Hannibal eyed his work appreciatively before he put the knife down on the counter beside the fridge and turned his head back to Clarice. She felt the blood ooze out slowly and she watched as Doctor Lecter wet his lips. He lowered his head slowly towards the wound and sniffed at it before he nuzzled the soft skin around it. His warm, moist breath created a knot in Clarice's stomach and her stomach tensed.

She watched in horrified fascination as Doctor Lecter's tongue darted out to lap at the blood like a kitten would with a bowl of cream. She heard him sigh and mumble something before he latched onto the small cut and began to apply suction while he licked away the droplets of blood. His hands moved to cup her hips and he squeezed Clarice appreciatively.

It was a strange mixture of pain and pleasure and Clarice did not know what to do. Her head moved back to rest against the fridge and her neck bobbled ever so slightly as she swallowed down another moan. Doctor Lecter's eyes flashed with amusement at the effect he was having on his little lamb and began to move his mouth away. He traced his tongue along the downward curve of her breast and kissed in between the two delicate mounds of flesh. He flicked his tongue out and suddenly bit down on her flesh hard.

Clarice could not stop the yelp that ripped from her throat, nor the needy moan as Doctor Lecter soothed her flesh with a gentle kiss and lick.

He was kneeling in front of her now and Clarice felt one of his hands leave it's place at her hip to wander under her dress and up her thigh. It crept up slowly and traced intricate patterns on her hypersensitive skin. She could not stop from jerking her hips forward and heard the infuriating chuckle of the man before her.

Both hands found their way under her dress and she felt it being pulled up around her legs ever so slowly. The cool air of the kitchen crept up her legs and she could not help but shiver. She twitched as his mouth found the area that connected her thigh with her knee. He nibbled his way up for a moment before he switched to her other leg and repeated his actions with relish. The sounds that came from Clarice's throat only pushed him farther up. He paused for a moment and Clarice waited tensely; She felt him move away for a moment and when he returned, she felt that damn cold knife on her upper thighs. A shallow cut was made to each upper, inner thigh and Clarice hissed at the sting. The hiss turned into a breathy sigh as a tongue lapped at the wounds greedily. When Clarice could stand it no longer, she bucked her hips gently and she felt Doctor Lecter smile into the flesh of her thigh. Instead of continuing his journey up, he dropped her dress and stood before her with a smug smile. Clarice felt anger flood her body and she thrashed against the fridge in attempt to harm him.

"How dare you!?" Clarice howled miserably as she swung her arms out, "How dare you do this to me!"

He raised an eyebrow at her before he took a step back.

"Why? Why are you doing this?" it was more of a sob than a howl now

He said nothing, his face impassive as she let her anger run wild.

"I hate you! I _hate_ how you make me feel. I _HATE-_"

He rushed forward and silenced her rant by slamming his body into hers, his hips shoving into hers almost painfully. He grabbed her face roughly and ravaged her mouth, nipping and biting at her lower lip before licking at it and swirling his tongue in her mouth over and over again in an incomprehensible pattern. His hands were everywhere, squeezing gently at her breast, flicking his thumb over a hardened nipple, his hips pushing into hers aggressively.

Something inside Clarice snapped and she threw her arms around his neck and all she could comprehend was lust. It burned inside her like a liquid fire and she could not get enough of it. She opened her eyes and found his staring intently into her face, watching as pleasure rippled over her features.

A hand snaked in between their bodies and Clarice felt her dressed raised roughly before it pressed into her and her hips buckled wildly. They pressed against her sex and rubbed fiercely, massaging her button of pleasure in just the right way. They stopped after a moment and simply dipped into her wet heat and curled into the "come hither" position before they began to move up and forward in a rough flurry of movement. All Clarice could do was hold onto the Doctor and allow him to swallow her moans in another scalding kiss.

It only took a few moments before the tension in Clarice's stomach tightened further and further before it snapped and pleasure exploded behind Clarice's eyelids. She could not breathe as it flooded her system and she moaned louder still into the Doctor's mouth.

---

Clarice woke with a start. She was covered in sweat and her heart was pounding fiercely in her chest. She was tangled in her now damp sheets and her sex was pounding with her pulse. Never before had she felt need like she did now. She quickly ducked her hand underneath the edge of her pajama bottoms and rubbed her wet mound quickly. She bit her lip and writhed for a few moments as pleasure coiled in her belly. A moment later, it sprung and she groaned deeply in her throat as her sex quivered and twitched tightly. She sagged against the bed again and wearily opened her eyes and felt disgust at herself. She wobbled out of the bed and into the bathroom to clean up. When she was finished, she stared at herself in the mirror with a dark frown before she splashed water up in her face and toweled off.

Sleep would evade her for the rest of the night but she laid down in her bed anyway to count off sheep, her mind absently thinking of the one most disturbing and erotic dream of her life.

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A/N: I'm so sorry I've been avoiding this fanfiction. I've been working on another entitled "Crystal Ball" for the movie Labyrinth… Anyway… As a gift to you guys for being so patient, I give you smut!Dream lol.


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